Driving through central France in the '70's in a Triumph 2.5 (great car in it's day), the engine boiled over and we stopped miles from anywhere. After walking a few miles,, the first building I met was a garage - what luck! The owner drove me back to the car, took out the thermostat and drove me back to the garage to test it. He then disappeared into the adjoining old house, and came out a few minutes later followed by his wife, with my thermostat sitting in boiling water in one of their kitchen pans. This was his way of testing the thermostat, which turned out to be jammed shut. He then drove me back to the car, which was perfectly driveable without the thermostat. When I offered payment, he refused point blank but I think I ended up giving him about 10F. On that same holiday, I met with a really pig-ignorant anglophobe camp site owner.I've worked in northern France a lot and speak the lingo so I accept that the French are like people anywhere - some are awkward sods and others are real gems.